To Colour a Black Heart
by Tsume Yuki
Summary: Marvolo Gaunt was a very proud man, however, he also happened to be a man very fond of liquor. He forgot about that night, but muggle-born Elizabeth certainly hadn't. Not when she held the physical proof of their drunken night nine months later. A Tom get's adopted story. Eventual Regulus I x OC
1. Chapter 1

**To Colour a Black Heart**

_x_

**_Prologue_**

Marvolo Gaunt was a very proud man. He was a descendant of Slytherin, he was a pure-blood and he was a wizard. And in the name of Merlin was he proud of these things. His birth-right, his linage, was everything to him. However, Marvolo Gaunt also happened to be very fond of the drinks. Ever since his wife had died during childbirth of his useless daughter Merope, he had been hitting the liquor. And he'd been hitting it hard.

So, he was not too surprised to wake up one morning to find a young woman asleep in his bed. He was however, exceedingly disgusted when he remembered her name, finally able to put it to her face after several minutes of emptying his stomach of last nights drinking session.

It was the filthy mud-blood witch that'd been scooped up out of Little Hangleton and carted off to his own rightful inheritance. The inheritance he was not allowed to claim. The castle that would forever be out of his reach.

Disgusted, he wasted no time throwing multiple blasting cruses at the woman, who only just managed to escape with her life, despite the hang-over that ailed her. He forced himself to forget that stupid mistake, the idea of laying with a filthy mudblood, and focus upon his children, the worthless daughter and the son who may turn out alright. He completely forgot about that now nameless mudblood.

But Elizabeth Cooper could not forget that night.

Not when she nestled the physical evidence to her chest nine months later. But she could place a a hereditary blocking spell upon her little girl, so that she would not have to know what a horrible man had sired her.

And if Elizabeth had her way, little Marcella would never find out.

**_Chapter 1  
_**_2__nd__ January 1933_

Gringotts was exceedingly busy, something that failed to come as a surprise. It was a well known fact that the bank was usually in full swing when Hogwarts broke off for any holiday, with new students scrambling to open an account to deposit all their new earnings into upon receiving a job.

It happened every single year, and so far, I had been forced to endure bank during its busiest time of the year thrice in my life. Once, when I'd made the mistake as a newly made Hogwarts student in coming to the bank with Mother to exchange some muggle money for galleons, a second time when I was fresh out of Hogwarts and during my naivety had attempted to fight my way in during the Christmas holidays.

And a third time today, when I've finally saved up enough money to disobey my mother, who'd ran off with a French wizard eleven months prior, leaving me with a house and no idea what to do now.

For as long as I can remember, Mother had refused to inform me of the other half of my parentage, never sticking to the topic of my father unless it was just to snarl 'we will never speak of this'. Elizabeth Cooper had spent several years in a run-down flat raising her only daughter, and had only bought a house two years before she'd fled the country to never look back. As I aged, no love was lost as mother and daughter grew apart, but sometimes, it still strikes a cord in my heart to think Mother had been capable of this level of abandonment.

Not really a surprise, but it still hurt a bit.

Which leads me to my current location, stood within a waiting line upon a marble floor, fully prepared to see the goblins and clutching a sack of money to my chest with a frown upon my face. Today, I was doing the one thing my mother had never allowed, which was to hand over pretty much all my annual savings in exchange for a blood tapestry. And seeing as it goblin made, that meant it'd tear through whatever spell Mother had preformed to block my heritage.

The only problem was that it was costly, which had meant I had been saving up for a whole year before I could actually go into the bank and request it's creation. But finally, it was happening, and nothing was going to stop me from learning about my family now.

Not even the holiday rush.

.

It was an hour and a half later when I was finally stood in front of one of the tall desks, a goblin looking down upon my short form from his high seat, counting out several handfuls of expensive looking gems that glittered atop the oak desk. Adjusting the outer-layer of my robes which was now folded neatly over my arm, I stood up a bit straighter and smiled nervously.

"Hi, I want to get a blood tapestry done." I was quick to drop the money up on the counter, already knowing fully well the goblins would dismiss me instantly if I didn't show the correct amount of money for their time. It'd happened the first time I'd enquired about it, so it was really no surprise that the little creature relaxed slightly at the heavy thud the bag made as it hit the wood.

Shuffling nervously about on my heels, I shot to attention when the goblins stood up and gestured for me to follow him. A few people still stood in line were looking at over now, it was rare people ended up requesting something that required a ritual room but I pushed past the nervous stares, running my free hand through my dark hair nervously. The goblin gestured for me to go in first and I did so nervously, instantly noticing the hard granite floor and the box of chalk for drawing runes upon the floor.

"Take a seat in the center of the ring please Miss Cooper."

Nodding, I slowly dropping into position after dropping my outer robe at the edge of the room. I'd done a lot of research into the process just to make sure nothing would go wrong at that price, but it all seemed pretty solid. In regards to blood linage, runes were very stable and offered the best results. It was pretty much full-proof, and had been known to blast through a good many spells that'd been used to hide family members.

I also know it is a very effective way of throwing people permanently out of the family, so the idea of that I'd been formally disowned by my other family was still swimming about in my head.

But Mother wouldn't have been so bitter over that, would she? She'd probably have happily announced an illegitimate child just to get back at them. Shaking my head, I watched curiously as the goblins danced around with chalk in their hands, drawing symbols as another dropped an extensive piece of parchment in another section of the runes.

"Carve those two on your arm," one of the goblins ordered, handing over two little sheets of paper and a knife.

I grimaced but accepted the blade, digging it lightly into the skin of my right arm and sketching out the image as best I could. This was another thing I'd looked up before, just to make sure I wouldn't end up walking around with scars up my arm. The ritual would see the runes healed over, there'd be no evidence they'd ever been there. Guaranteed.

Or rather, it'd never happened before.

Knowing my luck, I'd end up being the one person to get the scars. Once done, I drummed my fingers against the ground, sighing as the goblins continued their drawing. It was times like these I wish I'd thought ahead and brought a book, but I'd been weary of doing so when it could probably be taken as a insult.

Or the goblins would take the opportunity to take it as an insult.

.

They were almost finished when the door was thrown open by another goblin, clearly of higher rank, who led another wizard inside. My mouth snapped shut from where it'd been hanging open in shock as anger bubbled beneath my veins. It was one of those rich pure-bloods, I could already tell by the state of his robes without even getting a clear look at his features.

Once the back light from the main room was removed by the closure of the door, I instantly recognised the Black features though. Pollux Black had been in my year, he was one of the many Black cousins that'd passed passed through the halls of Hogwarts in the last two decades or so; it was no surprise that one of the pure-bloods that had intruded upon my ritual belonged to that family. There were so many of them it was a surprise, though I didn't instantly recognise this one, he looked like he'd have been a good few years ahead of me at Hogwarts.

"Mr Black! How may we help you?"

One of the goblins that'd been drawing up my runes dropped his chalk instantly, dashing over to help the pure-blood and I scowled, rolling my eyes.

Black looked over at me, taking in the blood dripping down my arm with a raised eye before he took in the runes. There was no way he wouldn't recognise them, every Black only took respectable courses, so of course he'd be fluent in ancient runes. And he'd recognise this one that spelt out family linage. And judging from the smug raised eyebrow and the the sneer, he'd worked it out in record time.

I returned the scowl, rolling my eyes and ignoring the ludicrous look the man shot me, instead trying not to listen in on his conversation while my ritual activated. My blood seeped across the floor, heading for the parchment as Black went on to discuss his own family tree with the goblins. I only caught a bit of the discussion, but heard quite clearly that they were disowning Cedrella Black. She'd only been a few years younger than myself, and I wondered what in heavens name the girl could have possibly done to deserve the fate of being kicked out the Black family.

Probably helped a muggle-born with their homework knowing that family.

"Sweet Ragnuk," one of the goblins stood over my -I'm guessing- finished tapestry murmured, his eyes wide as he looked at the parchment.

"Is there a problem?" It'd be just my luck to find out I have troll blood or something like that when there's a Black stood on the other side of the room.

"Unless wizards consider it bad being descendants of both the Peverells and Slytherins, then no."

Now I did snap to attention, eyes wide and taking in the goblin who finally signalled I was allowed to approach my family history. I did so in a sense of wonderment, looking down at the maze that was scrawled out before me. I could see the long line of the Gaunts spreading upwards, branching off into the Peverell and Slytherin lines before they stopped, running out of parchment. The tiny writing near my own name stated that my mother was from the long line of a squib from the Max family, cast out several generations ago.

And the closing living family member I had was one half brother.

My father's name I recognised, much to my shame. Marvolo Gaunt I'd read about in the papers during Hogwarts; he'd been carted off to Azkaban along with my half brother Morfin. Something must have gone wrong between that time and now, because suddenly Merope was dead, and according to the dates, she'd died of childbirth, as her son was born on the same day. I had a half-nephew.

But the question was where was he? Because Tom Riddle was not a pure-blood name, and if what I'd read of Morfin was correct, then the man wouldn't raise a filthy half-blood. Hell, he'd still have been in prison when the boy was born.

So where was he?

"It seems your mother has brought the first drop of muggle blood into your family in a millennia."

I nodded dumbly at the goblin, mind still racing. I had to track down Morfin and Tom, there was no way I could just ignore this information now.

I shot up to my feet, but my head collided at great force with something above it, sending me sprawling to the floor. Glaring up at the form hunched slightly above where I'd been sitting, I scowled as Black rubbed wearily at his chin, swirling his jaw about like I was at fault for the impact we both suffered.

"What were you doing hanging over my head?" I snarled, snatching my family tree away from his prying eyes and glaring as best I could at the man.

"It's a shame about your mother, otherwise you'd have had some pretty impressive blood in you."

"I still do, how many founders are you descended from?" I snapped back, watching as Black's lips thinned as a frown crossed his face. Then his fingers were pressed up against my cheeks, holding my jaw in one hand and forcing me to look him in the eye. The fact he was stood and I was still half sat, half sprawled across the ground only made him that much more terrifying.

"My family could end you," he hissed through his teeth, grey eyes narrowed.

"Yeah, well it's a good thing you'll avoid me and my muggle blood then, isn't it?"

The smile was humourless, but Black finally let go of my face, leaving me rubbing at my suddenly very tender cheeks. Black was out of the door before I'd even managed to gather up my tapestry.

And I wasn't sad to see him go.

* * *

I'd made it back home with time to spare and I rubbed at my forehead to attempt to ward off the on coming headache. Did I really want to seek out my half-brother, today was evident enough that pure-bloods were a huge pain in the rear end. And the one I'd been interacting with hadn't even been sent to Azkaban. Maybe it was best to avoid him?

But no, I'd gone to so much effort already, there was no way I was going to ignore him. Even if he was the deranged psychopath that the papers painted him as. I needed to go and meet him, if only to be sure I was better off never knowing him.

And then there was Tom who needed to be found too. If only so I could introduce myself to him. Well, at least I had a plan for now until I found another job. And the best part? There was no chance I'd run into anymore pure-bloods while looking for him.

The month was looking brighter already.

* * *

**I'm not sorry. I'm not very fabulous at first person, so forgive any tense mistakes. I'm not even going to pretend my grammar and spelling is perfect.**

**Thanks for reading,  
**

**Tsume  
xxx**


	2. Chapter 2

**To Colour a Black Heart**

_x_

**_Chapter 2  
_**_7__th__ January 1933_

Morfin had been a bust. I wasn't even going to go over how badly that'd gone down. All I knew was where my interesting little ability to speak to snakes came from. And of course, that Morfin had certainly deserved his place in Azkaban. If that man had been educated at Hogwarts, he'd have been a very dangerous individual indeed.  
Although the journey to my mother's home-town hadn't been completely wasted, I'd learnt that Merope, my half-sister, had ran off with the richest muggle in the village. And it'd certainly been entertaining when I'd gone to enquire about her to the man himself. Apparently Merope hadn't been very fair in her advances towards the muggle, and had been kicked out when her magic wore off. Of course, she was pregnant at the time, and the man didn't seem to care. Though he had insisted that he was put under some form of magic and forced to entertain Merope's happily ever after. And upon learning I was her half-sister, he'd demanded that I leave the grounds of his house at once, snarling that he didn't want any of my kind sullying his name any further.

I'd left without a second thought, instead scrying for my little nephew that could be anywhere by now. The only thing I knew for certain was that he was alive, as the tapestry declared.

This had brought me to a rather run-down looking part of London, walking down a street filled with all sorts of vile muggle factories. Mother had once told me that until recently, children had been shipped off to work there, and if they lost a limb to the heavy machinery, then it was all their fault for being stupid children. It was disgusting, the wizarding world would never have stood for it. The muggle world may be advancing in technology, but some of the looks I got for being a single woman walking upon their streets was beyond bizarre. Hopefully they'd catch up to the gender equality the wizarding world had been showing for a thousand years. Ever since two woman founded Hogwarts equally with two men.

The scrying crystal beneath my shirt twisted slightly and I turned to look at the imposing building stood before me, the letters upon the worn iron gates proclaiming it to be one 'Wools Orphanage'. Of course that's where he'd have ended up, as if it weren't enough to have a father who didn't want him and a mother who'd died on him, the poor boy had ended up lumped here and so far away from his rightful world. Well, time to change that.

Running my hands nervously down my respectable muggle-skirt, I took a deep breath. I needed to look good if I wanted to get Tom without breaking the law, well, the magical law. I wasn't above breaking the muggle-one, and if that meant kidnapping my little nephew, then it had to be done.

I just didn't want to go through all the trouble of doing so.

.

I was led into a small office by one of the little orphan girls, who'd seemed suspicious of my intentions, simply because I didn't have a man by my side. At first, she assumed I was actually looking for a job, and when I explained I was instead looking for my little nephew, she didn't seemed to comprehend it. It was sad that in their minds, as soon as they were in the orphanage, there was no way out but growing up or getting adopted. I could tell from her face she'd never heard of someone actually coming to look for family, it was a completely foreign concept in her mind and I instantly felt sorry for her.  
Luckily enough, the girl was quick to fetch the skinny, sharp faced woman in charge, who took one curious look at me before gesturing that I should walk with her. It was obvious that the little girl had told her I was here to take one of the orphans away, because she looked both relieves and distrustful. After the basic introductions in which I gave my name as Gaunt in case this woman knew Merope's maiden name, Mrs Cole led be over to the boys side of the orphanage.

"And why have you not come for your nephew before today?"

"Because I didn't know he existed till five days ago, I got here as fast as I could find him."  
She hummed, giving away nothing as we walked.

"And his name?"

"I'm not sure, all I heard from my brother was that my sister had a child with some rich ponce that'd left her upon discovering her pregnancy. I didn't even know I had siblings until recently."  
Mrs Cole made another disgruntled, unreadable noise at my obvious less than respectable sounding family and I rolled my eyes, forcing my fingers to remain at my sides and not rub at the approaching headache.

"He might have my father's name though, Marvolo?"  
She snapped to attention instantly, hard eyes scanning my form and I almost flinched back at the change in her behaviour.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle?"  
I let my eyes widened, a grin lighting up my face whilst my brain whirled behind the scenes, trying to figure out the reason she must have to react like that.

"Yes, his father was called Tom Riddle, I'm so pleased I've found him."  
Mrs Cole's lips thinned and for a split second, she reminded me of the Black I'd met earlier that week, the disdain on their faces matched perfectly. I'm sure the pure-blood would take the comparison well.

"I see. Well, I shall fetch the papers." She didn't seem anywhere near as over-protective now that she knew who I wanted; surely Tom couldn't be as bad as his uncle had turned out to be? He hadn't even had the bad influence of Marvolo around, even if he was named after the man.

.

Ten minutes later of filling in sheets, including my address -not that a muggle like Mrs Cole would ever be able to find it- and I was completely done. I would become a registered guardian to the little boy I'd never met before. I was a bit confused in all honestly, because I was almost sure that the orphans were suppose to be given a choice over whether they wanted to leave or not, but it appeared Mrs Cole had forgotten about that part.

"You won't be bringing him back, will you?" She asked beneath her breath as she led me up a floor, almost too low for me to hear it. I wasn't sure if I was suppose to or not, but my hands curled into fists regardless and my wand, hidden up my left sleeve, almost began to vibrate with energy.

"No, I will not."  
Yeah, judging by the way her head snapped back slightly I wasn't suppose to hear that. Thankfully, the awkward silence lasted no more than three seconds as Mrs Cole rapped sharply on a door before gesturing for me to take over. I frowned as she left, informing me I had an hour to get my nephew out of here. What a lovely woman.

Rolling my eyes, I pushed open the door gently, looking inside to see the face of my nephew for the first time. He looked just like his father and my breath caught for a moment, remembering the disdain that the man had treated me with. But no, this was his son, who had never the pleasure of meeting that man before. I refused to even compare the two. Tom hadn't looked up from his book, clearly having expected Mrs Cole to poke her head in and issue out some order or another. I made my way into the room and managed to take a seat before he actually looked up at the silence, dark eyes instantly looking onto my form. They widened for a second before narrowing, a frown crossing his face as he slowly closed the tattered book in his grasp, putting it upon the desk beside his bed.

"Hi," I finally whispered, elbows resting upon my knees and head in my hands, feeling exceedingly nervous. For as long as I can remember it'd been just me and my mum, and suddenly, I had this family now, with a little nephew who only had me to turn to now.

"Hello," he finally returned, voice calm but still holding that light high pitched tone that every child below ten had. Tom was six, or so the tapestry had said. I'd just missed his birthday, both upsetting and relieving at the same time. Because honestly, I'd have no idea what to get him.

"Er, my name's Marcella Cooper."  
He showed no reaction to my name, still sat painfully still on top of the worn bed.

"I'm your aunt."

That got a reaction, the same widening of the eyes before the anger overtook his face and Tom was on his feet, teeth bared and his breathing picking up speed.

"Where were you?" He spat, face fierce. I had to tense myself to avoid moving, refusing to give in and be made out the bad-guy here.

"I got kicked out of the family before I was even born. I didn't know my father's name until five days ago." That seemed to calm him a bit and he slowly sunk back onto his bed, face once again closed off and emotionless. No wonder Mrs Cole was eager to see him go, even I'd admit Tom was a bit creepy. "I did come as fast as I could."

"Are you a sister of my mother or my father?"

"Half sibling of your mother," I answered without hesitation, because anything and everything had a chance of setting this boy off, "we shared the same father, your grand-father. Though I've never met either of them; they were both dead before I found out the family connection."  
Tom nodded slightly before he noticeably tensed, a thought clearly having crossed his mind.

"I want to take you home with me, you don't belong here." I'd clearly hit the bullseye because Tom relaxed slightly, standing in one fluid motion.

"Right now?"

"Right now."

.

It took Tom a measly ten minutes to pack up all the belongings he had to his name, and not one of them was the family heirloom Morfin had mentioned. Clearly Merope had sold that off to make it through her pregnancy, so it could be anywhere by now. I didn't even know what it was, so I couldn't really scry for it.

"Why are you taking me in if you were kicked out the family?"

"Because it was for a stupid reason and family is family. Not even my idiotic father can change that, no matter how hard he clearly wanted to try."  
Tom was still frowning but he slowly nodded, taking in my hand wearily when I offered it to him.

"I promise I'll explain when we get to my house, but for now, I just need you to trust me okay? I'm sure you've done a few things, that a few things have happened that you really can't explain right?"

Now I really did have his attention, his dark eyes burning with curiosity and I wiggled my fingers in his direction. He didn't hesitant for a moment, slipping his hand into mine and grimacing slightly at the physical contact. Well, it was something we'd have to work on.

I twisted on heel and with new charge in hand, apperated away.

* * *

**This is just a little something I'm writing on the side when I'm bored, because I really wanted to write an OC fic in all honesty. **

**Thanks for reading,**

**Tsume  
xxx**


	3. Chapter 3

**To Colour a Black Heart**

_x_

**_Chapter 3  
_**_11th__ January 1933_

To say Tom took well to the idea of magic would be a bit of an understatement. The boy had happily accepted its existence, though he'd been incredibly disappointed to learn he wouldn't be allowed to preform any magic until he reached eleven, and that even then it'd only be at school. It was obvious he couldn't wait until he hit his eleventh year; I'd caught him counting out the remaining days up to the kitchen table.

The house my Mother had left me was a small thing, a simple two bedroom cottage in a small wizarding village of Upper Flagley, where there wasn't too many muggles nearby. There was a reasonable amount of land around us, nothing too special, but enough that we could happily spend some time outside in summer without constantly bumping into the little patch of wizarding plants growing out there.  
Tom seemed pleased enough with his new home; I'd given him what had once been my own room before my mother had left; I'd since moved into the master bedroom and purged it of anything she'd left behind, selling it off to fund my tapestry.

Said magical family tree was hung up in the dining room that sat between the kitchen and the living room, spread across one entire wall. Tom had spent an entire day sat in front of it, tracing our connection linage all the way down to Salazar Slytherin, where he'd tap his finger slightly against the name with a funny expression upon his face. Already he'd started reading my 'Hogwarts; A History' book, even if I did have to help him with some of the non-muggle words he came across. The boy was incredibly intelligent, which was what had brought about a rather large dilemma.

I'd sent off a job application to one Adalbert Waffling before I'd picked Tom up, a notable theoretician who wanted a research assistant to help him out and travel around to collect information for his next book. It was a job that paid well, but now that I had Tom, I was hesitant to accept the offer. Waffling had already said it was acceptable if I were to drag my nephew along on these travels to look into magic itself, but I wasn't too sure if it was right for Tom. He was a child, and needed a stable life. I might not be able to provide that if I were to take the job, but then again, the boy was incredibly intelligent. He might learn more coming along with me than sitting at home with a baby-sitter or tutor.

In the end I'd simply asked the boy if he wanted to join me on the job or would rather stay at home, and Tom had instantly stated he'd prefer to go along with me. I couldn't blame him, it was a chance to get out and see the world, and though we weren't clicking like a perfect family unit right away -Tom pretty much ignored me unless I had something important to say or he needed me- I had hopes our situation would improve.

.

Which leads me onto today's outing, Tom's first trip to Diagon Alley. He was exceptionally excited, I'd gotten somewhat good at reading him in these short few days -or perhaps, his mask cracked a bit whenever something to do with magic came up- so I could see through his folded arms to witness the anticipation beneath. The first thing I had to do was go and register as Tom's magical guardian, but after that, we were free to go off and play around the Alley. Or rather, I'd let Tom decide where we were going and I'd hopefully buy him a few books and robes. So far he was wearing a pair I'd transfigured from his original grey orphans uniform, a colour charm turning them a rich, Slytherin green. Tom seemed happy enough with them, but I knew the magic wouldn't hold for more than a day, transfiguration had never been my best subject at school.  
That'd been charms, closely followed by potions and ancient runes. The last two of which I'd promised to start teaching Tom as soon as I had enough money to buy the potions ingredients required to start teaching him. But runes would be doable, all I needed was a bit of chalk and we'd be able to start. Which was one of the few things on my list to currently buy.

I'd already explained as carefully as I could to Tom about the money situation, who'd summed it up with a casual 'so we're poor then?' as if it were of no consequence. I'd done my best to correct him, stating we had a house and more than enough money for food and other necessities for the next three months because I'd been saving up, but he'd just shrugged it off. Because in his words 'it's not like I had any money to compare against you, is it?'. The fact he spoke so well left me unsettled slightly but I brushed it off, determined to get my nephew to actually like me. It seemed I'd be fighting an uphill battle.

But it was one I was willing to participate in.

* * *

Our trip to Diagon Alley hit a pot hole somewhere between lunch and the counter at the book-store.

I'd let Tom pick out a handful of things he'd like, and to my dawning horror every one he'd picked up had somehow been on a theory of magic or the history of it. Or the culture. No children's books. No fiction. Just solid facts. I'd slipped in the '_Tales of Beedle the Bard_' in hopes he'd actually read it. But I wasn't holding my breath. Maybe if he read through the ones he'd chosen quicker than I could put some money aside for another shopping trip.

I ran a stressed hand through my hair as Tom inspected some of the titles that first year Hogwarts students should be looking at. I was so out of my depth with this kid it was unreal, obviously he'd be taking better to his magical education than I did, and Mother raised no slacker.

"Urg, not you again." Speaking of slackers...

I turned on heel as I waited for the shop assistant to actually man the counter, taking in the form of the Black stood before me. It was the same one that'd seen my magical family tree, and there was disgust scrawled across his face.

"Maybe it's best not to announce your presence if you don't want to talk to me," I murmured beneath my breath, but loud enough so he'd actually catch it. I still had no idea what his name actually was, so I was already at a disadvantage as he knew mine. The pure-blood ponce was annoying and childish if he couldn't leave me alone in a store like this, and I would happily admit to stooping to his level in order to fire shots back at him.

He shrugged, returning with, "I can't help it if your filthy blood smells so bad it takes my breath away."  
Well, I couldn't say that I hadn't heard that one before I guess; at least he was somewhat creative.

"Unless you have an allergic reaction to carrots or something I think you should go get a doctor to check your nose. My aunt smells of the vegetable stew we had for dinner to me." I froze in place.

It was one thing to banter back and forth with Black, but I wasn't going to let Tom get hurt by his sharp tongued words. Black was staring down at Tom's form like he'd never seen anything like him before. And in all honesty, neither had I. He was just too mature for a normal child of six. He acted far beyond his age. But I suppose where he grew up, I was lucky he hadn't come out damaged beyond all repair.  
Black was still staring at Tom as my nephew made his way over, offering up a book on basic Arithmacy for me to look at.

"May I get this one too?" We were on a bit of a tight budget, but there was no way I was going to say no in front of a snob like Black. My new robes would just have to wait another month, its not like I desperately needed them anyway.

That seemed to snap Black out of his trance because he looked down at Tom and sneered, the latter of whom simply stared back at Black like he was some passing animal that'd caught his interest.

"Don't you think you're a little low in society to be getting books like that?"  
Tom's face didn't move a muscle and it had to be creeping Black out, because it was creeping me out too.

"Well if I can understand it then there's not much to the upper class, is there?"  
A snort escaped me before I could stop it and I covered my mouth. Black seemed equally stunned by both Tom's words and my very unladylike gesture.

He eyed Tom wearily, adjusting the thick-back book he was holding before finally speaking, "what's your name mudblood?"  
Tom answered whilst I snarled at the slur.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle. And I'm going to be the greatest student Hogwarts has ever seen. I won't need family connections to be a better wizard than you."

Black laughed slightly, but it was almost humourless. There was only the slightest bit of mirth in his voice as he spoke again, like he found the very idea of Tom trying to outdo him amusing.

"I'll keep an eye on your Riddle, and when you fail, I'll remind you of this conversation." His gaze turned to me, unreadable now before he dipped his head ever so slightly. "Gaunt."

"It's Cooper," I snapped back, folding my arms across my chest and only just recognising that the cashier had returned and was totalling our books up.

"Are you ever going to grace us with your name?"  
Another one of those emotionless smiles crossed his face as he accepted his now paid for book back from the worker, and turning towards the door. "It's Regulus Black."

And then he was gone, leaving Tom and I standing next to one another with our books. It wasn't until I looked back to the cashier that I realized that I hadn't offered up any payment, and he was quick to explain that Black had paid for their books, probably in the heat of the moment. He had that much money to throw around.

Tom was still looking at the door before finally, a frown crossed his face and he muttered, "I don't like him."

And that was the first thing we wholeheartedly agreed on.

* * *

**I adore the idea of Tom running rings around the pure-bloods quite frankly. **

**Thanks for reading,**

**Tsume  
xxx**


End file.
